The Three Billy Goats Gruff and the Lonely Bridge Troll

Once upon a time, there were three goat brothers, and their family name was Gruff. There was Little Billy Goat Gruff, Middle Billy Goat Gruff and Big Billy Goat Gruff. They lived in a meadow beside a rushing river, where the grass had grown short and dry. But across the river was a hill covered in the greenest, juiciest grass you ever saw. "Mmm," said the three goats. "Let's go and eat that grass!"

To reach the hill, they had to cross an old wooden bridge. And under that bridge lived a Troll. He wore a mossy hat, he had a bushy beard full of leaves, and he had a very, very grumpy voice. Nobody ever came to visit the Troll. Nobody ever said good morning. And so, year after year, he had grown grumpier and grumpier.

First, Little Billy Goat Gruff stepped onto the bridge. Trip, trap, trip, trap! Up popped the Troll. "WHO'S THAT trip-trapping over MY bridge?" "It's only me, Little Billy Goat Gruff," said the little goat. "I'm going to the hill to eat the sweet green grass." "Nobody crosses my bridge!" grumbled the Troll. "Hmph!" Little Billy Goat Gruff blinked. "But I'm very small, Mr Troll. I hardly make your bridge creak at all." The Troll peered at him. "Hmph. Too small to bother with. Go on, then." And off skipped Little Billy Goat Gruff.

Then Middle Billy Goat Gruff stepped onto the bridge. Trip, trap, trip, trap! Up popped the Troll again. "WHO'S THAT trip-trapping over MY bridge?" "It's me, Middle Billy Goat Gruff. I'm going to the hill to eat the sweet green grass." "Nobody crosses my bridge!" grumbled the Troll. "Well," said Middle Billy Goat Gruff, "I'm not the biggest. My big brother is coming next." The Troll folded his arms. "Hmph. Then I'll wait for him. Go on." And off trotted Middle Billy Goat Gruff.

Then came Big Billy Goat Gruff. TRIP, TRAP! TRIP, TRAP! The whole bridge went creak, creak, creak. Up popped the Troll, as grumpy as a thundercloud. "WHO'S THAT trip-trapping over MY bridge?" "It's me, Big Billy Goat Gruff," said the big goat in a deep, calm voice. "NOBODY CROSSES MY BRIDGE!" shouted the Troll, stamping his feet. "Not you, not anybody!"

Big Billy Goat Gruff did not shout back. He did not stamp. Instead, he sat down right in the middle of the bridge and looked at the Troll with gentle eyes. "Mr Troll," he said, "why are you so grumpy?" The Troll opened his mouth to shout, but no shout came out. His bushy beard began to wobble. "Because everybody just stomps across my bridge," he said in a small voice. "Trip, trap, trip, trap, all day long. Nobody ever stops. Nobody ever says hello. I live down here all by myself. I thought if I shouted, at least somebody would talk to me."

"Oh," said Big Billy Goat Gruff softly. "That sounds very lonely." Up on the hill, Little and Middle Billy Goat Gruff had been listening, and they came trotting back. "We're sorry, Mr Troll," said Little Billy Goat Gruff. "We didn't even say good morning." "Good morning, Mr Troll!" said Middle Billy Goat Gruff. And for the very first time in a long, long while, the Troll smiled. It was a crooked, rusty smile, but it was a real one.

"Mr Troll," said Big Billy Goat Gruff, "this bridge has some wobbly boards. You know every plank better than anyone. Would you like to be the Keeper of the Bridge? You could help everybody cross safely, and everybody would stop to say hello." The Troll's eyes grew bright. "The Keeper of the Bridge? Me?" "You!" said all three goats.

So the goats and the Troll fixed the bridge together. The goats carried new planks, and the Troll hammered them in, tap, tap, tap. He hung a little sign at the end that said: HELLO! PLEASE SAY HELLO BACK. Then they all went up the hill for a picnic. The goats munched the sweet green grass, and the Troll ate his favourite blackberries.

Now, every day, when someone crosses the bridge, trip, trap, trip, trap, the Troll pops up, not grumpy at all, and calls, "Hello there! Mind the third board! Have a lovely day!" And everyone calls back, "Hello, Mr Keeper!" The three Billy Goats Gruff visit him every evening, and he is never lonely anymore.

Parent tip: Tap your knees softly for Little Goat, louder for Middle Goat and loudest for Big Goat as each one goes 'trip, trap' over the bridge.

Ask your child: After the story, you can ask: “Who was kind in this story, and what did they do?”

In this gentle retelling nothing scary happens: the grumpy troll is simply lonely and becomes the goats' friend.